“Fear makes us do stupid things. It makesus run. Hide ... And sometimes,it causes us to maketerrible choices that cost us more than we can realize.”
She closed her eyes, listening to her heartbeat. And Dawson’s voice in her head.“I think probably youshouldn’t leave Alaska without another go at getting whatyou came for.”
He meant Vic.
She might mean something else. Because last night, sitting on the steps with him...
He’d very much looked like he might kiss her. And she very much, at least for a terrible, wonderful beat, wanted him to.
Oh brother. She was in the middle of one of her sad songs about falling for the wrong guy.
Wrong place, wrong time.
She could almost hear the lyrics write themselves...
Wasn’t looking for a spark, just a quiet night,
But you lit up the dark, made the wrongs seem right.
Like a flash in the pan, it happened so fast,
In the blink of an eye, thought it was meant to last.
She flung off the covers, let the cold air rush in, then pulled the comforter around herself, and stood at the window. Ice and frost crept in around the frames, a lacy pattern that belied the frigid temperatures.
Outside, the world had turned to a wonderland, wind still stirring up phantoms of snow on the pristine lake. Snow frosted the pine trees that surrounded the community and white blanketed the black shingles of the barn, falling in massive drifts around it. People shoveled around the barn entrance, and thebrrof a chain saw lifted in the distance.
She’d never felt guilty for sleeping late before, but now she tied back her hair, pulled on a flannel shirt and her yoga pants, pulled on her boots, and headed downstairs.
A few kids ate breakfast at the long tables, but in the kitchen, a cadre of teenagers washed dishes while Nance directed traffic.
Keely went to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Why is everyone outside?”
“There’s another storm coming in, so we have just a few hours to feed the animals and repair the heating system.”
No wonder the cold nipped at her. Sure, a fire crackled in the massive hearth, but ice and frost laced her bedroom window. “What happened?”
“Tree came down on the generator hut. Which shut downthe boiler. It’s wood-fed, but the pump to the lodge and all the houses is electric, and it also runs the damper. The tree took out a few of the connections, which shut down the damper, which snuffed off the furnace.” She handed a stack of plates to one of the younger boys. “Your man is out there with them.”
“He’s not...”
Nance raised an eyebrow, winked. Whatever. With the storm gone, they’d be leaving anyway.
Except, she’d been gone for the better part of two days. In the Alaskan bush. With an ex-cop. As if. The papers would have a field day.
Maybe she wasn’t in any hurry to leave, thank you.
For some reason, the story of Donald’s wife crept into her head. Keely headed for her borrowed parka and sturdy Sorels, grabbed her hat and mittens, and stepped outside.
Funny how, three days ago, she might have stopped in the mirror and grimaced. Now, she pulled the matted fur hood up and cinched it down.
The wind swept out her breath, the cold biting her nose as she clomped down the stairs. She expected to see Caspian, but maybe he was helping Dawson.
Following the growl of the chain saw, she spotted a trail that led behind the machine shed and headed around the building.
A massive Sitka spruce sprawled across the property, its firry arms broken and covered in snow, the trunk maybe three hundred feet long.
One giant, shaggy arm had landed on a fourteen-by-twenty-foot building, the back of it half crushed, broken wood scattered like shrapnel in the snow.
